A fairytale
by SevenSi
Summary: Written for an exchange giftfic, Luis SeraAshley Graham. Luis comes back from the dead, or was he ever dead? And he surprises Ashley with a strange holiday gift. AU.
1. Chapter 1

Fandom: Resident Evil  
Pairings/characters: Luis Sera/Ashley Graham: Very AU.  
Rating: PG-13  
Notes: One last giftfic for RE. Done, over 3,600 words. This story was helped by a Spanish born, fluent-speaking friend, thus the spanish phrases for Luis. Also some tiny Spain-related facts, which are placed in the story.

Summary: As I wrote this, I was thinking of the "stardust" film, a rather romantic fairytale, and placed something faintly similar; but overall, it's completely Resident Evil in subject and in conjunction with Luis and Ashley's background.

* * *

_The marketplace_

Luis Sera was searching for a present, something sweet, sweet enough for a girl like Ashley Graham; he had an inkling that she possessed everything she could ever buy or want, need in her young life. At that thought, Luis Sera frowned. He had gone to several department stores, was shoved aside by shoppers, crowded as it was in the market place, where the Spanish bazaar was held; the overhanging tents, covering arrays of sectional stores. Every seller who was selling whatever bazaar item selling preened their unique home made shinies in the most fashionable; stuff you couldn't find in a typical department store, and which Ashley probably—had never gone to.

Besides, if it weren't for the fact that Leon S. Kennedy had saved his ass back in Spain, he wouldn't be here alive, searching for a present. He was not ungrateful by any means, staying underground for the most part—so that the future Saddlers of this world wouldn't find him; he was responsible for hiding the knowledge that he alone knew of the virus and anti-virus that plagued an entire village. He was glad that he kept many of the serums that were calculated in his head, because everything—all his life's work was obliterated on that island and the laboratory that harbored much of his paperwork had been singed down to mere nothingness. As if he didn't exist.

Luis Sera was no more. However, he had to plan out an identity for himself, and managed to use one of the villager's sons who had been manipulated; taking the identity of a poor soul like that didn't feel as if he were doing anything wrong—if anything, there was some sort of justice done. None of those villagers were even warned of the horrors that infected their entire mundane lives.

Here he was, strolling through a market place smelling the smells of barbeque foods being sold behind open restaurants; sweet cinnamon rolls; cinnamon coated churros that brought his stomach churning with need; the soft smoky scents of calamari and seafood drifting by his nose, as he lifted his chin in the air, inhaling deep. Luis was glad he was alive, and he had to make sure to repay that Kennedy agent someday.

He went past a couple areas, where a lady in gypsy clothing, wearing long earrings, necklace with round pearl-like silver jewelry, flattened against her breasts—sat among rows of odd sized candles and incense. She wore makeup and looked to anyone passing—a seer in a modern world; although, from the way the bazaar was set up, it looked as if they had been spiraled back in time; back to when the world was still bustling to claim history and a boy named Jesus walked among humans. Luis Sera had to admit, despite his scientific background, despite everything else that said he was part of the advancing world; he was very much soaked into religion. He couldn't shake that part of him, the part where his family had taught him the beginnings of Christmas.

Luis Sera glanced up towards the sky, searching for the north star, and found to his chagrin, the blasted satellite staring at him between white washed clouds. It was nearing dark, but the sky lent a hint of pink and a mesh mash of darkening blue. He faintly felt sad, thinking of his own family that he couldn't go back to. He would be found out, all the organizations that were part of the grand scheme of things: vying for the new pharmaceutical concentrated drug that would change the course of the entire world: and, in this case, one small village or city at a time.

The woman was eyeing him from under the tent, her long hands caressed the globe before her."Señor," she purred, her lips thick with red, eyes lined with the darkest kohl, "You are distressed, i feel your pain. Is it a certain lady you wish to impress?" She was by no means Spanish or traced any heritage in that vein, along with a voice that spoke too Germanic in tone.

He was startled, but then caught himself, "Si, senorita," he smiled, reached up with one hand fully ringed, to push the long brown strands away from his eyes, "I am not so distressed, though I find myself confused at the display of so many items in which I do not think I shall find the gift that would surprise someone special."

"Ah," she purred, the clanking of her necklace moved as she dipped close, the flimsy gown she wore fluttered, marking a thinly veiled material, "she really IS special," as she looked into her crystal ball.

At that, Luis nearly wanted to roll his eyes, but found that sort of gesture too rude for words. "Yes, and she's I'm afraid very young," he sighed, "but" he warned, hoping to waylaid the eyes that widened under her veil, "not so young that she's not of age," he chuckled, "I'm not such an ungentlemanly lout; that that would be—.."

He was instantly cut off, presented in his hand, against his chest a small package, "Here!" the woman said, almost too eager, "This is for you, and for your little lady friend. This should be something of value, and one that I guarantee would make an exciting present for someone so special."

Luis was perplexed, holding the package within his grasp: the crumpled brown bag was insulting enough, and withholding a groan, he respectfully looked inside, "What…what is this?"

"Just let her wear it," she said, then closed herself off by turning to another customer who had wandered by.

Luis shook his head, pulled the jacket close, over himself to keep from feeling the cold caress of the winter wind. His cowboy styled boots clicking over the cobbled stone market place, wet stones greeting his shadowy form from every angle. He would buy something simple, not having much money for access since his so-called death, and would take the cab towards the country home address she had given him over the internet weeks ago. They had conversed over the net since then, and sometimes, if she was able to, get some time to call him over the phone.

It was going to be a long night, and Luis managed to buy something else as default—he couldn't just give this to the President's daughter. What would she think? That he's a lowlife scum? He shook his head, _naw—_he told himself that she's not that type of girl—despite her very educated and dignified background. She would understand, because he was a man who had come back from the dead.

When he reached Ashley Graham's home, she was already there, waiting for him. If there was one other person in world that knew of his existence, besides that of Kennedy and perhaps his superior officer--or those he worked under, it was Miss Graham. She had given her word, upon her honour never to reveal such secrets, and it occurred to Leon that perhaps Ashley wouldn't be inclined to tell even her father, the President of the U.S.

She never liked to keep things from her father, but even the horrors she had experienced back on the island and on that horrid village-- rummaging through the caverns deep below the castle; trekking through hallowed halls dampened by mould and age in the once resplendent _Castillo Salazar_ --sent her waking in a cold sweat.

Her clothing for the evening was something she picked out after spending hours upon hours searching for the right ensemble. Finally choosing something pumpkin coloured, rich in autumn on her skirt, short as the one she wore when she met Luis; and her sweater, though not similar, was cashmere soft and powder blue, the long sleeves hung slightly so that when she was reaching over to hug the long awaited Spanish researcher, they fell towards the elbows, scrunching up. Her stockings were of the same colour, lightened blue, almost bleached, and were of thick material to match the occasion of the cold weather. The shoes she wore were of a common brown colour; and she thought that since the ensemble looked rather fetching with a pair of cowboy related shoe-wear, it wasn't too bad looking in the mirror.

He was happy to see her, and was a bit hesitant to hold her tight, still wary of public press that should suspiciously hide themselves behind a generous bush which surrounded her stately home. She was not staying at the White House for Christmas night, but at one of the country homes her father owned. The night before, on the eve of the holiday's celebration, she had been busy with her family there in the D.C. area, exchanging gifts and having to suspend much of her time thinking about the next day. The next morning she was whisked away, before having her breakfast, having dined only on the plane to the country house so that she may prepare for Luis's arrival.

"Luis!!" she squealed happily, the candles inside the home filled with the scent of vanilla and cinnamon, gave the hall interior a yellow warm glow. Ashley Graham was delighted beyond anything, having been through the ordeal of a terrible experience not suited for anyone of her ilk, and though she was pressing herself eagerly against him, she felt him reach over and hold her just as tight.

This pleased her immensely, and as she withdrew to look into his brown familiar eyes, sad eyes they were—she noted, dark circles marred them with an almost gaunt face, though still handsome in her eyes, "Luis, you haven't been eating well, have you?"

And as if the words felt as if she were a motherly hen, she gasped, "I'm sorry! I'm just—.." The nervousness ticked inside, despite that she hadn't let go of him and he of her, they were standing in the threshold of her wealthy country home, underneath the mistletoe.

"No, that's okay, _querida mía,_ I am eating fine, it's just that I don't sleep all too well.." and it was true, because the nightmares were still there, even if he were a man too hardened by such trivial things such as viruses that made a mere human into cattle, or had seen monsters too powerful for even ancient sea serpents of its time. But here he was, holding Miss Graham and he wondered if he were a little too forward.

"Yes, you're right, I still have nightmares myself," she confessed, her hazel eyes wet under the waning outside light, "it's been so horrible, I can't even sleep properly since then, but I've been going to therapy sessions, something my father suggested I go under after the entire ordeal." Her face brightened, "You should do it as well!"

"I'm okay, really, but, are you alone tonight?" He probably sounded too pervy, but it wasn't his intention; though, the thought was tempting, seeing her like this, so eager and so beautiful. Yes, he had thought that the little Miss Graham was quite stacked for the President's daughter and she didn't skimp out on her ensemble tonight either. Small of waist, that both his hands could wrap tightly around them and touch the fingers.

"Look above, Luis." She said, the mischievous glint shining in her eyes, "you're being quite rude…"

"I am?" he told her in a teasing manner, looking up once, "I see that you've prepared something quite delicious for me, and I thought that we were going to exchange presents inside."

"Stop and do as the mistletoe says!"

And he couldn't say no, so he lowered his lips to hers, meshing them until she was driving her tongue inside, mumbling sweet words and chanting his name, "Luis, Luis, Luis…."

When they finally came up for breath, she drew him inside, closing the door behind them. Luis was impressed at the decorative way she had given the interior of the home: the candles in golden lanterns and upon iron metal fancy grating stood on ornate stands, and the way the banister curving up to the second floor was decorated with wrapped clear tubing surrounded with lights, alternating and flicking on and off just like a Christmas tree filled with sparkling lit colours.

"You've outdone yourself, Miss Graham," he whistled through his lips, and bowed slightly, "if I had known that I was visiting a young lady of such taste and such class, I would have brought you the finest_ jerez _from the stronghold of my former father's home, which to my dismay, isn't around any more," Luis ended with a somber note, his eyes looked darker than before, the shadows giving him a gaunter appearance of someone who had escaped death and death would claim him at another time.

She laughed, "Oh no, I had other people work on the house before you came." She allowed herself a little giggle, "I couldn't possibly do all these things, and I'm horrible at decorating!"

"Ah well," he chuckled, "perhaps there are other areas in which you are quite talented, I'm sure,"

Ashley pulled him inside the living room, where the waiting fire place greeted him with a golden light and a pleasant smell of sage and burnt fresh wood, the sofa lined with the softest material—one in which he was able to sink himself in, tired from the long walk from the front gate, and tired from the day's shopping.

After pushing him down upon the most cozy of sofa's, giving him the most genial smile, she left the room and came back immediately with a tray of two hot mugs of chocolate and some biscuits, "Something to tide you over before we start on the dinner! My chef has made us something Spanish!"

"Oh, querida mia, you didn't!" he joked, eyeing her with that wicked look in between teasing and faint surprise, "Because it's been so long since I've tasted my country's home cooked meal, straight from the hands of a professional chef," and he gave her a grin, his arms spread over the sofa, legs propped up on what looked like the furriest stool around; it gave Luis the suspicion that it too would miraculously walk away any moment.

"Tacos, burritos, and churros aren't on the menu!" Ashley offered primly, handing over the cup of steaming chocolate, "it's from the best chocolate ever."

"I am whetting my appetite already, Miss Graham." He told her, his eyes held the same wicked gleam over the rim of the cup, and indeed was impressed by the taste of the chocolate warm liquid that passed through his lips, "mmmmm delicious, I hope there is more of this after dinner!"

"Anything for you, Luis," she said, faint and soft, "I've really missed you, and seeing you here in the flesh—wow—it gives me the chills when I think—when I think of how you must have endured so much back there."

"What of you, Miss Graham," he pointed out, "A president's daughter in the middle of no where Spain, caught up in some kind of conspiracy where the war of good and evil resided, no wait—the war of all evil resided!"

"Must you be so dramatic?" She rolled her eyes, "I'm fine, because Leon was there,"

"Yes. Leon." Luis cleared his throat, "speaking of which, he has been assigned as your body guard again?"

He hoped he didn't look too jealous.

She shook her head, "yes, and no," swallowed, "I did want him to keep protecting me, but he had other missions, other things to attend to, and I don't blame him as he's the most, absolute bravest man…" then stopped herself, smiling, "Next to you, he's one of the bravest men I've ever met and have known."

"Enough of that Kennedy, he's always stealing the limelight; let us talk about us, and speaking of which, my Miss Graham, I have a gift!" And seeing the way her eyes lit up, he was happy to produce a small pretty package out of his sweater jacket pocket, "I just hope it's enough."

Ashley picked it up between nervous hands, not realizing that this moment, here with Luis made her feel especially happy, and was glad that she was an adult; an adult to tell her father that she was going to have a special dinner with a special friend and she didn't want anyone to disturb her. Of course, this didn't mean that her bodyguards were on vacation, as some of them were stationed outside the country home. She was adamant that the body guards were not to be seen, so that they wouldn't spook her special guest.

The package was wrapped in foiled gold, and a ribbon of see through material sparkled with glitter and silver lining. Pulling on the ribbon, she eagerly and easily took the package within her hand, seeing the box there.

Blinking, she lifted the lid and saw a miniature glass ballerina, the slender figurine dainty and polished. She kept blinking back the tears, "Oh it's lovely, Luis…" almost choking, immediately brightened, hazel eyes wide: "I got you something too!"

She took out the big package from under the table where the golden coloured material covered, handing it over with glee, "it's not much, but I hope you like it."

He was the one surprised, "Oh but, Ashley, you shouldn't have, really you shouldn't, but I thank you nonetheless. Any thing from you is going to stay with me till my dying day." And he said this with his ringed hand on his chest, as if making a pact with her.

When he opened the package, it was filled with surprise gifts: fine Spanish _sangrias,_ chocolates packaged in fine boxes, a sweater that was knitted with the words, "the best man in the world," which sent a raised brow at Ashley; and the bottled olives, green and black; the envelope containing tickets for two to a ski-mountain lodge for the winter, accompanied with knitted cap, a pair of knitted gloves, and ski pants, looking familiar in size. He smirked at that.

"I don't know what to say," and he was indeed a little taken aback from all the presents, "this is a bit too much and me—I had given you such a little.."

"No.." she whispered, "no, it's not how much you give, but the thought behind it, right?" then she felt hypocritical, after seeing how much she gave him, and added, "I can afford all this, Luis, but you—you have so much heart…"

"Ok okay!" he lifted his arms up, "I get it," he chuckled, "I see that you've given me tickets for two to a ski lodge, and you're the person I'm taking?"

"You better take me, or else!" She said this with a conviction and arms on her hips, "Come on, let me take your jacket off and hang it, I want us to have a wonderful dinner."

When she took his jacket, a brownish dull crumpled bag fell out of his jacket, and onto the floor. She picked it up and said, "What's this?"

"Oh, that's nothing…" He said, almost too afraid to tell her, because it would be worse to realize that something so menial would even please a girl like Ashley.

And because she was curious, she looked in, "A pink ribbon?"

He shrugged, "yeah, a funny thing happened on the way to the market," he watched her, hoping that she would listen with some apt attention.

"Yeah? Tell me." She was already pulling and stretching at the ribbon, placing it on her hair, "is it for someone?" then her hazel eyes lit up, "for me?"

"It was supposed to be for you, but the lady who gave it to me didn't say anything else, and she was one of those gypsy fortune tellers."

"Oh those!" Ashley fingered the ribbon, finding the satiny feel very pleasant, "What is it for I wonder, and maybe it's a wish I should make.."

"You can try, but I hardly doubt anything would come out of it, I being a man of science believe in no such things; however, it can be quite interesting to be amused by such trivial objects that are beyond the scientific mind. And believe me, so much has happened in the course of that horrible incident on the island; making me a believer of so much, but not of magic or future fortune."

"I wish," Ashley closed her eyes, her hand on Luis's hand, "that you and me would go to a magical land far far away, where there are no ghosts from the past to haunt us."

She opened her eyes, and found to her dismay that the ribbon didn't work that way.

"Ah well," she sighed, "there's dinner, smell it?"

Indeed he did, and was already salivating, "Oh yes. I'm very hungry and I cannot wait for what your chef has prepared!"

"Come on, Luis," she giggled, snaked her arm around his, led him down the hall and into the great big dining room. The sounds of Christmas music drifted from the kitchen, filling the rooms with echoes of the season's touch.

From the distance, the pink ribbon was left alone on the coffee table; it fluttered lightly as if there were a breeze blowing in the room.

The couple didn't realize that their wishes would come true, and has already started.

* * *

_--the end.

* * *

_

notes: Jerez is a type of wine popular in Spain; it is stronger than typical Spanish wine, sort of like a Sherry. Sangrias are popular drinks there, more so than chocolate drinks; however I used the chocolate flavoured drinks in the story for I don't disbelieve a man like Luis would disagree of anything Ashley gave him; Ashley's sweet, generous nature is in this xmas fic, infectiously delicious for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Fandom: Resident Evil  
Chapter II Title: The Meeting with the President.  
Rating: PG-13 to M  
Pairing: Luis Seras/Ashley Graham  
Genre: What do you think: ROMANTIC, with a bit of humour. ;-)

words: 3200

Summary: Luis and Ashley get an unexpected visit from the President.

Notes; Written again for an exchange gift.

* * *

xx

Luis was happy. Truly. He hadn't known that being with the President's daughter would be so, invigorating, so....alive? It wasn't so long ago that he was, in fact, on the way to death's door, before events had changed the course of history. And now, he was sitting in Ashley Graham's very modish living room, where there was only the light of candles, the blazing cozy fire in the hearth illuminating the interior, haloing their appearance with the touch of gold and honey.

_She is an angel:_This is what he thought of Ashley, as he sat there, with his arms around her, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes. That she was, in his mind an angel with the innocence of youth; old enough to know better, yet sweet enough to keep her heart at peace. Peace. Ah, that was a word that he could not venture to own up to, considering the harrowing adventure he had gone through. Las Plagas and the villages he had once roamed, once sat beneath the long line of fluorescent light, accompanied the smell of chemicals underneath the castle's high ceiling. He was Luis Sera, the researcher who had found the cure.

She snuggled deep into his arms, smelled his cologne and giggled, "Luis, what's that you're wearing? It smells very nice."

"Ah, querida, that is _Spanish conquistador & Spice,_" he kissed the top of her bright head, taking one of her gold locks between his fingers, caressing softly.

"Luis, stop, you're teasing." She turned into his arms, and found herself being dragged up for a chaste kiss, his lips first capturing her lips, tentatively, then moved to plant one on the tip of her nose.

"Si, little Ashley, si, I am, but what would you have me say? I have only taken a nice, long shower to make myself much more presentable to your eyes and, nose." With that he reached over to touch the tip of Ashley's pert nose.

"I'm so happy you're here." She sniffled, and he caught the sound of her voice, almost choking up with something quite emotional, "I thought you were going to die, back there in that awful place. I'm so glad that Leon saved you. Saved both of us!"

"There, there," he told her, enjoying the feel of her body so close, "I'm alive, and well. Nothing can ever bring us apart again. And we'll have to send a bottle of champagne to our friendly government agent one of these days, for I would not have known to have discovered such happiness within your arms. Much less, the President's daughter!"

She giggled happily, "You'll have to meet my father sometime, he'll really like you."

"Must we?" He looked at her with an expression he hoped was of slight dread, "I would hate to locked up after becoming quite free, and releasing the shackles of my given name."

For indeed, he had to find a means to become another identity after being rescued from the horrors back in Spain. They would track him down-him, the researcher who had found the cure for the las plagas and he, the scientist that would inevitably be the downfall of the underground pharmaceutical companies. Those that seek to destroy the world through means of controlling human beings with the insertion of over the counter drugs would be thwarted by the likes of a very talented Spanish known researcher who worked with the royal line of Spanish families. He was, after all, part of that underground world. One, he hoped that would be left behind like the black ocean that engulfed the entire island. Ah, but the world would not forget, and as long as he was alive, there was the distressing sentiment that he'd have to make a new identity for himself.

"And I need a job." He told her, his hand now moving along her arms, wishing that she was disposed of her sweater, and he could only argue in his mind that he was only a man. She was after all, quite a delectable beauty in his eyes; one who had opened her heart for him, and that he shall always be grateful.

"A job? Of course. You're very talented, Luis. You can get any job. You can find work for the government, if you'd like; my father is the President and he'd more than likely give you a great big recommendation and put you up for lead scientist at one of the government facilities." She was so bright with that smile, Luis thought, and so sincere.

"I don't know, querida, I still need to fit into a new identity. Would your father be able to approve of such duplicity?"

"Why wouldn't he?" She gave him one of those innocent big looks, her mouth making a kind of pouty expression, "Your serum basically saved my butt and not to mention Leon's. The government would award you a medal for such a heroic action."

"Still, querida, but would they overlook the fact that I'm also part of the research team that helped create the Las Plagas." He told her honestly, his face forlorn, the ringed fingers, bronzed and beautiful now caressed the side of her face where her hair, bright strands statically clinging to her wine-coloured blushed cheeks.

They remained like that, for a short while, until the sound of an alarm sounded outside Ashley's summer home went off all around them. Luis sat up, tensing, "Mi Madre dios mios!" He felt his little lady's body language anxious, and sat up.

"Oh! The alarm is off? Someone's here!" Her eyes were wide as saucers, hazel and gold in the reflection that was caused by the hearth's friendly fire. "But...I didn't have anyone, well, no one knows I'm here!"

"That may prove to be a slight problem," Luis worried, "they might have been searching for you, as you've been kidnapped once before." He made a sigh, thinking that once the police or most likely, the President's bodyguards were breaking down the doors, they would mistake him for some rag-tag Hispanic abductor, with unpleasant thoughts to their beloved daughter of the President.

"And I've not a single I.D. on me, my dearest Ashley," he heard the sound of cars pulling up by the driveway, the lights flooding white across the windows, flashing bright against the walls and blinding their eyes.

Luis exhaled, "I'm afraid I will have to make my exit, for fear I may.."

He was cut off by her hand over his mouth, "No. You can't leave. I'll explain everything! If you flee now, how would that look? And they'll shoot you down."

That, to him was far more than a Las Plagas inserted in his body. It was one thing to escape death's door, but another to be shot down like some immigrant running for the border. He sighed. He was surely not some illegal; however things were not going his way since he was after all, trying for a covert identity. He has, since coming to the United States been quite harassed. Not by the officials at the airport, for they found his fake passport to be genuine, and coming from Spain had some benefits after all. It was from few citizens that he found some difficulty.

However, the time came when the people of this country could not tell a Spanish man from one who has escaped the confinements of a poor country, or rather a country in turmoil-such as those from the Mexican borders and those from Cuban waters. Whether he was on the east or west coast, it mattered not; and surely if he were travelling in the north side of the States, he was by no doubt, to be accosted and mistaken as some Puerto Rican. Until, he opened his mouth to speak in perfect and fluent Spanish. That bore no indication of any of the dialects much prominent in any region.

He sighed wearily, and proceeded to accompany Ashley, who was pulling his arm along; her face beamed cheerily as if this was not a concern at all.

When they heard the banging of the door, and indeed the noise of police claiming they will tear the doors down if they didn't receive any cooperation made Luis pause a bit but was instantly dragged into Ashley's body, "Come on, Luis, don't be scared. No one is going to shoot you while I'm here."

He could swear there was a great big glob of sweat forming on his forehead, "Whew, that's nice, querida, there is just the misconception that perhaps they will start shooting first?"

"Not while you're hiding behind me." She pertly announced, her hand already on the knob.

"Great. Just my fate to hide behind a woman." He joked, but while he said that, she turned to give him a scolding, yet playful look.

As the door opened, lights flooded their eyes, everything was bathed in angel-white, almost too bright that the couple had to squint.

"It's me, Ashley, put down your weapons!"

When some of the lighting was lowered, Luis and his companion were met with the S.W.A.T. team. It looked rather ridiculous too, but he was doing the best that he could-hiding behind his woman.

"Miss Graham, are you all right?" Said one man who was clearly the leader, wearing his SWAT Tactical black BDU uniform; it looked like a black hoodie over the bottom half of his face, the clear eyes very stern as he looked from Ashley to Luis.

Ashley noted this right away, "He's with me, he's my boyfriend."

Luis sighed, smiling wearily and raising a hand to wave, but that was clearly not the right decisive move, for a dozen guns aimed at him.

"I'm unarmed. No need to get violent." He was supposed to be scared, but being in danger was something he was used to, so he nodded to them in the most polite fashion, eyes still trying to adjust to the light, "Gentlemen, I am this young lady's companion, and I fear that there has been some mistake."

"Who are you? And what are you doing with my daughter?" Boomed an older man shoving his way through the throng of SWAT team, and immediately Ashley gasped.

"FATHER!"

Luis groaned inwardly, "It just keeps getting better and better."

"Come on, Luis, this is your chance to meet my dad." Ashley, as usual, was cheery and oblivious to the fact that Luis was indeed having a very difficult time; yet, to his enjoyment, he probably wouldn't have it any other way.

"Dad, this is my new boyfriend, you'd approve of him. He's the guy I told you about. The researcher."

"Is that so?" The President was standing with his arms folded, wearing casual clothes, "Young lady, I would like to have been informed where your whereabouts are."

"Never mind that, Luis, this is my father, the President of the United States."

Luis took his que, bowing gallantly as he could, "Sir, I am honoured to meet you. I assure you, that no harm has come to your daughter."

"Humpf." The President Graham grunted, "Is that so? I've had a hell of a time with her being kidnapped those months ago, and it pains a father that her child does nothing to make her family fret the entire time."

"If I had known that Ashley was indeed hiding her whereabouts from you, I would have scolded her into action, by calling you immediately. I assure you, Mr. President, it is not my intention to whisk your daughter away; in fact, I am duty bound to keep her safe."

"Is that right. Hmm." He looked from his daughter to Luis, "Luis right? You're the one my daughter talked about, the researcher from Spain?"

"Yes, but, if you don't mind, sir, I would like to discuss this at a more appropriate time."  
They looked around them to see that the SWAT team had begun to watch them, listening and hanging on to every word. Surely, the news would get out that Miss Graham was out gallivanting with a Spanish researcher.

Mister Graham grunted, "All right, everyone put your weapons away, my daughter is in no danger. Nothing to see here."

With that signal, the entire unit dispatched, and even some moans and graons were heard. Luis suspected they were willing to shoot down someone tonight. Bloodshed was what these guys were used to. He released a sigh of relief, glad to be alive for another day.

"Well now, Mister Seras, correct? I have words with you about my daughter."

Even Ashley looked at her father with an angry glare, though he suspected that it was more of an affectionate gesture, as it seemed that his little querida was indeed close to her father.

Luis blew through his mouth, sending the long brown strands away from his lean face, hoping he didn't look too sweat-riddled from all the stress, "Ah, Mister President, shall we enter your home, and discuss the matter at length?"

And so, they proceeded to chat at least an hour at the dinner table, while Ashley brought them hot Turkish tea to drink, the smell of spearmint wafting in the air.

When the President's fears were put at rest, he nodded to Luis, shaking his hand, "Good to have a very talented Researcher in the country, and I look forward to having you join the team at the plant this coming Monday. I will make sure that everything is prepared for your arrival and your position as a noted researcher on bio-genetics and chemical warfare."

The last part nearly made Luis blanch, but he was not about to refuse a gift horse. Or was that look a gift horse in the mouth? Whatever the expression, when the President left, giving his daughter a hug, and farewell, Luis turned to Ashley.  
"My sweet Miss Graham, I cannot believe this evening. It is a miraculous one."

"It is," Ashley leaned into his arms, where she was waiting all night to dive into; she snuggled deep, smelling the faint cologne still clinging to him, the side of her face buried against his vest.

"Now, I must leave." He said, whispering.

"Oh no you don't," she whispered, tiptoeing, and kissing his chin; and he enjoyed the feel of her kiss against his jaw, hoping that the abrasion wasn't too much on her delicate lips.

"I have one last surprise for you, Luis." She gave him a look that nearly transformed her. One minute she looked like Ashley, the innocent, pouty President's daughter, and the next, some sultry blonde bombshell who fluttered her dark lashes and pulled him towards the rooms.

"A surprise, querida?" He choked, hoping he didn't look like a complete idiot.

She led him into a darkened room, with the lantern inside giving off a faint glow; it was indeed quite romantic and quite fetching. The bed had one of those gossamer light violet-red mosquito nets, which gave off a very tender atmosphere.

When she pushed him towards the bed, he almost balked, though not too much, "Miss Graham, I-do not think this is, appropriate. What if..the guards? Your father?"

"I'm over the age, Luis, what is my father going to do? Strap a microphone around my chest so he can hear what's going on?"

He quirked an elegant brow at that, "Ah the image is not very pleasant, please, continue," because the vision of his woman looking quite sultry was making him a little uncomfortable in the pants.

She took off her pumpkin coloured sweater, over her head, revealing her black, lacy bra. He was at loss for words, and had to snap out of it, for wasn't he---the man who was ever the predator in these kind of situations. But ah, but Ashley was the seducer this night. Who would have known?

Ashley took his hand and placed it over her small waist, "Touch me, Luis, kiss me like you've kissed no other, for I've wanted you for so long."

"Mi amor," he was feeling the rise of desire in him, he knew this was the right moment, here with this woman. He took his hand, to touch the soft lines of her face, and moments later he was cupping her face, leaning into her lips, kissing her deeply.

Soon, they were spread out on the bed, with the light of the lantern giving off the glow against their naked bodies, the heat of their wet kisses, the touch of her fingers gliding along his broad shoulders sent a thrill up his spine.

He brought her body close, enjoyed the touch of her full breasts against his chest, his hand roving along her back; the way her legs glided along his brought a moan from him, "Ashley, I've never felt this way about a woman before, you're so beautiful."

He meant it, as he looked into her eyes, finding tears there, "Ashley, are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm so happy, Luis, just so happy." She brought her pliant lips to his, wanting to taste his tongue again.

It was not long before she lay beneath him, her eyes half closed with longing; he touched her there-where she was hot, moist and sweet; as sweet as her kisses were. Luis pushed slowly in, hoping not to hurt her, and she moaned against his lips, her hands tensing against his back, kneading his toned muscles.

He moved against, careful not to hurt her, careful to please, his lips searching for her face, planting kisses along the soft heat of her perspired temple, the half open mouth with half gasps. She sounded beautiful beneath him, with a measured tempo, he paced, enjoying her pleasured cry against his ear.

When she reached her climb, tensing beneath him, he waited until he could take his release. It was with satisfaction in his heart that afterward, she continued to snuggle into his arms, both with mingled sweat and falling into a deep sleep without nightmares of the past.

--_the end_.

* * *


End file.
